untitled.

i hate it when i can't think of a title. its an humbling problem to a writer.

and why is it so easy to fall back than to walk forward?

honestly, i'll  never lie about the fact that this is hard and painful.

and not necessarily rewarding on my timing.

come to think of it, all i have are promises. 

but i guess that's more than being hopeless. 

right?

i'm going to read my bible today.

and i'm going to listen. 

hard.

but after i sleep. it is, after all, 1 a.m., and i'm tired.